It Was All She Could Do
by sunny tuesday
Summary: Everyone he loved, truly loved, to the point to where he'd die for them, was threatened. And most likely killed. It was time, he realized. Time to go.
1. Bittersweet Victory

**Bittersweet Victory**  
All Harry Potter could think about as he unleashed the final blow and Lord Voldemort fell to the ground- finally totalled- was of her. Of how, somehow, this victory that his life had been leading up to, was worthless without her here with him to celebrate it. He could still see her face in his mind's eye; the delicate curve of her chin, the fiery love in her brown eyes, her auburn hair cascading down her shoulders like a crimson waterfall. He missed her smile most; how it would light up her entire face. She would never be here anymore, all because of the dead man lying before him.

Lord Voldemort had taken his parents, his friends, his family, his everything. And then the evil, dark wizard had taken the one person Harry loved the most: Ginny Weasley, his soulmate. All Voldemort had succeeded in was provoking the most powerful man on earth, and he met his downfall for it.

And somehow, now that it was over, Harry was unsure of what to do next. He had spent his entire life fighting for everything he needed, he wanted. And now there was nothing left to fight.

**shiningbright**


	2. Death

**A/N: **I got a review for my first chapter regarding the length. It was intentional for that chapter to be as short as it was. For this story, I am enabling the chapters to be shorter so that (1) there's more of them, (2) it's a faster read, and (3) I can update more frequently. I apologize to those who don't like that system but I prefer it. Anyway, here's chapter two.

**Death  
**He'd just been sitting there, for over an hour, thinking, with that quiet look in his eyes that told Hermione there was something up. The moment she'd heard of Voldemort's downfall, she, and the rest of the Order, had rushed to the scene- Raven Circle, north of Hogsmeade. All around Harry was rubble, and right before him, eyes still open and lifeless, lay the once unstoppable tyrant.

Hermione felt sick to her stomach. Harry had done this, he had killed! Not only that, but she'd been friends with him for over half of her life. It seemed hard to believe that it was all over. And reaching over to her husband, Ron, she silently begged for support.

She wanted to run to Harry and comfort him, since Ginny wasn't here to do it. Ginny! Oh, she missed Gin so much; she had been her sister-in-law and best friend during the past few years. And all they had left of her was a lock of her hair and a bloodsplattered cloak- they didn't even get her body back. Somehow, knowing Ginny had never been laid to rest, made Hermione uneasy. It wasn't right.

No one approached Harry as he sat there, brooding. And everyone knew why.

**shiningbright**


	3. Reminders

**Reminders**  
They had cleaned up the mess, discarded the bodies, and alerted the Ministry. Voldemort was no longer a threat. Harry Potter had fulfilled the prophecy. The world was safe once again.

Harry, however, was not one of those engaging in parties or other celebrations. He was sitting in his kitchen, hands folded together, trying to figure out what to do next. A few months ago he'd pictured Voldemort's defeat so much differently. After Voldemort had died, he had planned to propose to Ginny, and then maybe take a Mediterranean cruise or something. He hadn't planned on her being killed.

But she was dead. She was gone. She was never coming back.

Harry spied the bloodstained cloak over on the rack. He'd left it there, when they'd given it to him, as a reminder. Everyone he loved, truly loved, to the point to where he'd die for them, was threatened. And most likely killed. It was time, he realized. Time to go.

**shiningbright**


	4. Anxiety

**Anxiety**  
Ginny Weasley slowly opened her eyes, her neck sore. She stared around her, realizing she was lying on a coach of some sort, dressed in the same tattered robes she'd been wearing during imprisonment under Lord Voldemort.

The room she was sitting in had faded, peeling wallpaper on the walls and from the vaulted ceiling hung a single chandelier, which time had apparently forgotten. The room had a musty, unoccupied air to it, as though no one lived here normally.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps. Sitting up frantically, she glanced around the room for some type of weapon, finally settling on a fire poker beside a sooty fireplace. Being threatened and living with Lord Voldemort for the past six months hadn't been good for her health, and now all she could do was shiver in anxiety. Was it Voldemort walking down the hall, coming to torture or rape her again?

Suddenly she spied the old-fashioned doorknob turning, and gasped as she watched Draco Malfoy enter the room.

**shiningbright**


	5. Packing

**Packing**  
Harry pulled a suitcase out from underneath his bed, opened it, and magicked all of his clothes and toiletries to fold themselves neatly inside. After slamming his suitcase shut, he threw on a traveling cloak and, bag in hand, left the room. He paused on the threshold, gazing at the flat he'd lived in for over a year, until finally landing on that blood-splattered cloak. An ache in his heart, he folded the cloak neatly and put it inside his suitcase.

_"Reducto_," he whispered, causing his suitcase to shrink to the size of a matchbox. As he opened the door he placed the miniature suitcase into his pocket and, taking one last glance, walked outside and shut the door behind him.

Where he came face to face to a grimacing Ronald Weasley.

**shiningbright**


End file.
